


What Do I Do?

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Other, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Spencer and teen daughter reader who becomes pregnant at the age of 16. She tries to keep it from him, but he can tell something is wrong and one day, she breaks down, confessing everything.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

“What am I supposed to do, mom?” you whispered to your mother’s picture. She was gone - taken away by ovarian cancer when you were just five years old. But you needed her now more than ever.

As you looked down, the positive test sitting in the palm of your hand, you started to sob. That little plus sign was the bane of your existence. What in the hell were you supposed to do? Your mother was dead and your father was an FBI profiler. He was raising you by himself. Even if you did want to keep the baby, would your father help? Would he disown you for getting pregnant at 16? Would he look down on you? You had always been daddy’s girl. What would he think of you now? A teenager, unmarried and pregnant.

You’d only had sex once, so you knew exactly how pregnant you were. It was barely over a month. How long could you go without telling your father? You were so scared he’d turn against you, disown you, be disappointed in you...that thought alone made you sob even harder.  
Maybe you could work through this by yourself. Figure out what to do and then tell your dad. Or if you decided to have an abortion, maybe you’d never need to tell him. All you knew was that you couldn’t do it now.  
\-----------------------

Two months later...

“I just don’t know what to do,” Spencer said, telling JJ about his daughter’s withdrawal and depression. “I know the signs of depression, but she hasn’t come to me or said anything, and I’m scared she’ll hurt herself.” His eyes started watering. Granted, JJ had boys, but she was a mother and had helped Spencer a lot since Y/N’s mother died more than a decade ago. “I’m sure at this age, she would rather go to her mother, but...” he cracked, “but she’s gone and I’m totally out of my element.”

“Spence,” JJ started, touching her friend on the arm, “I know you feel hopeless right now, but Y/N is struggling. No matter how hard it is for you, you need to ask her if anything’s wrong. You love your little girl, right?”

“Of course I do,” he cried, a tear rolling down his cheek. “She’s the light of my life.”

“And you’d do anything in the world for her, right?” she asked.

He shook his head in agreement. “Of course I would.”

“Then talk to her. Ask her what’s wrong so that you can work together to solve the problem,” JJ replied.

** 

Later that day, your father returned home. You were sitting on the couch in a daze and as soon as he walked in the door, you got up, about to return to your room.

“Y/N,” your dad called, “Can you stay for a minute please? I have something I need to say.” You swallowed hard, you still hadn’t figured out what you were supposed to do. Reluctantly, you walked toward him, averting your eyes from his gaze.

“Yea?” you asked quietly. This was undoubtedly it. Your father was going to find out you were an unwed, pregnant teenage mother-to-be. He’d hate you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he started, “but I know something’s not right.” He looked at you, worry shooting out of every pore of his body. “For months now you’ve been withdrawn. You always used to talk to me. I felt like I wasn’t just your father; I felt like we were friends. But you don’t speak anymore - to anyone. You haven’t even spoken to Aunt JJ in months. You’re putting on weight, which don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t matter, you’re beautiful just as you are, but all of it is adding up to something being wrong and I want to help. I know you’re hurting.” He hadn’t looked at you the entire time he was rambling, and once he did, he could see you sobbing. “Please, talk to me.”

“I can’t,” you cried, taking a step back. “You’ll hate me.”

Your father’s mouth dropped open. “You’re my baby girl, Y/N. I could never hate you.”

The cries wrenched through you as you collapsed, only being caught by your father’s arms. “What’s wrong, baby? Please tell me.”

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, the words barely audible even to your own ears.

“What?” he asked. Not out of shock, but because he genuinely hadn’t heard you.

You looked up, the sobs catching in your throat. As you clasped your stomach, you cried even harder. “I’m pregnant.”

You watched the look go from one of worry and concern to something else - Shock? Pity? Disgust? You couldn’t place it. “Y-you’re pregnant?” he asked, looking down at your stomach.

“Yes,” you said, finding it hard to breathe.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you.

The physical contact was enough for you to realize your father still loved you - the cried continued full force. “I didn’t want you to hate me!” you yelled into his chest, grabbing onto his arms for an anchor in the world.

He held your head in his hands, wiping away the tears as they continued to fall. “Look at me. I could never hate you,” he said, kissing you on the forehead.  
“I-Is that boy Rory the father?” he asked, wondering if he knew. She still wasn’t showing all that much.

You shook your head. “He said he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” You looked up, again seeing a change in your father’s gaze. There was fire in his eyes.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” he seethed. How dare he?

“I’m scared, daddy,” you cried. “I don’t know what to do.” You began to rub your stomach. Could you have an abortion? Did you want to? Could you raise this baby? Did you want that? You were too young for this kind of choice.

He searched your eyes, as if looking for the answer in them. “You already know what you want, Y/N. I can see it.” He rubbed the pads of his thumbs against your cheeks. “What is your heart telling you?” he asked. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

These past two months had been hell. You’d thought about each and every possible outcome over and over and over again. You didn’t look down on people that had abortions, but when you thought about doing it, you couldn’t imagine going through with it. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine being able to adequately raise a baby right now, especially without the help of the father. Sure, you could love it with all of your heart and if you had no other option, you knew that you would, but...you did have a third option.

“I want to have it and give it up for adoption,” you said, the tears slowly subsiding, your voice becoming clearer. Your indecision was steeped in what your father would think; you knew all along what you wanted to do.

“I think that’s a very grown-up decision,” he said, wrapping you in his arms. You buried your head in his chest, the sobbing picking up again as he continued talking. “I think no differently of you. I love you. Sometimes things happen, although if I see that fucker anywhere near here ever again, I’ll kill him. I have an IQ of 187, I could do it without leaving a trace if I wanted.”

Laughing through the cries, you said, “I hate him, but I can’t have an abortion. And I know I couldn’t give this baby what it deserves. Someone should be able to.”  
“I’ll help you look for agencies,” he said, the tension in his shoulders leaving him. “Do you know whether you want to do a closed or open adoption?”

“Open,” you said, without having thought about it. You did want to know how the baby was being raised if you could. “I’d like to know how he or she is doing. Make sure they’re being raised by a good family.”

He pulled you closer into him, rubbing your back and smoothing your hair. “You’re a good mother, Y/N. Just like your own mother. She’d be proud of you - and I am too.”


End file.
